Goodnight Starshine
by Daemon faerie queen
Summary: Charlie returns from University with his sweetheart to his home at the Wonka factory. Worried by an ill omen, Alice fails to express her concern until together they uncover a terrible secret...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: As per usual I do not own anything in here you recognise. Anything not belonging to Roald Dahl/Tim Burton etc is of my own devising.

A/N: Yes I know I'm obsessed. This is a new one but by no means have I given up on OneDepp or LittleShop. Just wanted to get this one started before someone else does the same idea (if they haven't already), which of course isn't apparent with only this chapter so you'll have to wait and see what this becomes hehe. Thought I'd try a different style more towards the thrillerish genre. Hope you like :)

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The train squealed into the station, fluttering the hairs and clothes of the waiting crowd. A young man clad in a smart black suit flapped an urgent hand towards an equally young woman struggling to lift her rucksack across the platform, the wiry curls of her hair bouncing at her shoulders.

"Come on, Alice, hurry!" cried the suited boy. "We can get a seat with the tables!"

He dashed over to her and shouldered the hulking luggage, then grabbed her hand and pulled her with him into the carriage.

The girl known as Alice slumped into a seat as her boyfriend set about cramming her belongings into the overhead compartment. After numerous grunts of effort and a noise that sounded like something had broken, he clamped the compartment shut and dropped into a chair across the table from her.

"I still can't believe you're coming back to London with me," he beamed. For a lad of twenty, he still had most of his childish charm.

Alice smirked.

"If it's that hard to believe, I can just as soon get off at the next station and leave you to wonder. Anyway, what's with the posh get-up? Are you taking me out to dinner as soon as we get there or something?" She looked his ensemble up and down with interest. "'Cause if you are, you should've warned me. I wouldn't have worn white."

The young man smiled at his sweetheart playfully. Perhaps he should have warned her, but she'd looked too damn good in that blouse and skirt – the ones she'd altered herself to mimic spider-webs at the sleeves and hems. Besides, they'd hardly had enough time to pack from University before the train's arrival.

"Mum expects me to look smart when I come home. It's my own fault really, I inherited the whole suit thing from – well, I just picked it up somewhere. The white's fine, honestly. Just be careful where you walk when we get there."

The train moved off with a soft screech. Alice gave a small giggle as she took out a pack of Tarot from her handbag and shuffled through it without looking.

"I'll be all right, Char," she replied. "It's not like I expect the walls of the place to be entirely made out of chocolate or anything."

Charlie Bucket grinned. It wasn't any big secret that he had been the youngest heir to an immense confectionary goldmine. Every paper in England, nay the world, had splashed his name on the headlines for winning the extraordinary Golden Ticket competition just after his tenth birthday and inheriting the largest chocolate factory in history. _It's a wonder I'm not a fat git like that Gloop boy_, he had thought before the voice of his mother within scolded him for such abuse of language.

"Nah, you're probably expecting them to be made out of money," he chuckled.

His girlfriend's jaw dropped. So did her card deck.

"That hurt. You know I couldn't care less if you -."

"It was a joke, Alice," Charlie sighed, reaching out to help pick up the cards.

"Well it's not very funny," she said, slapping his hand away and retrieving them herself. "Anyway, forgiveness granted, I know who you were going to say you inherited the dress sense from. I'm only thankful you didn't go for the same haircut."

"Oh cheers," Charlie groaned. "I've tried discussing it with him but he's pretty stubborn about his looks. You better be nice to him at any rate. He's very sensitive sometimes."

Alice pouted mockingly as she shuffled the cards once more.

"I'm always nice. What would he do anyway? Set those odd little people who work for him on me?"

"No but trust me, you'd regret it. He can get _really _petty if you make a wrong impression first time."

Charlie watched with a minor fascination as his girlfriend cut the deck and dealt a pattern across the table. Her nail-bitten fingers tipped over the cards up and across the top and middle sections of a star, leaving only one unturned. They trembled from the vibrations of the train.

"What are you reading about this time?" he asked.

"Your family," she said, scanning the pictures for some inner meaning.

Charlie frowned. He didn't believe in the workings of the Tarot, but he was one of those people who easily changed their minds about what he believed, and quirky superstitions being cast about his own flesh and blood were some of the things that unnerved him the most.

"Oh? What does it say?"

"Hang on a sec," Alice answered. "It all rests on the final card really, but this is what I've got so far. Your mother's worried, probably hopes you'll have a safe journey I suppose, erm…" She squinted in concentration over the top row. "Oh I see travel in there, um, that's that path thingy there, new experiences that sort of thing…"

Charlie rolled his eyes.

"People travel all the time. Walking down the road is classed as travelling, and new experiences? Well we have those every day. Every minute if you take it literally."

Alice gave him a glare before continuing.

"There were some problems with someone young or the business…"

"That'll be me being away for so long," Charlie sniggered.

"I thought you didn't believe in this. You said it was rubbish," Alice said flatly.

"It is rubbish, but I'm not stopping you."

His girlfriend tutted and turned her attention to the bottom row.

"I don't remember that one…oh, this one's good but you shouldn't boast about it or something…some kind of sacrifice…"

"That'll be the roast chicken we'll have for dinner, I expect."

"Char, shut up or I won't show you the last card."

"Sorry."

Alice flipped it so only she could see it. She coughed and started to pack the cards away.

"So you're sure Mr Wonka won't mind me staying for the fortnight, then?" she said quickly.

"Of course I'm sure, he does know you're coming, so stop changing the subject and tell me what was on the card."

"It's not important -," Alice began as Charlie snatched the card from her hand before she could slide it into the pack.

The Grim Reaper stared him in the face.

"Oh," he said, simply. "That's…nice."

"It doesn't mean what you think," Alice mumbled, going a little pale.

He passed the card back to her.

"It's fine, really. I don't believe that stuff."

The young woman in white sighed and gave Death a fleeting glance before returning it to the box in which she kept her deck. A change was coming.


	2. Chapter 2

Some hours later they scrambled out of a taxi into a wide city street. Snow crunched beneath their shoes as they struggled to remove their heavy bags from the car.

Alice gawped through the enormous gates before them at the leviathan beyond. The factory was a cluster of skyscrapers in height but with a myriad of shapes and levels like that of a fantastical fortress. Huge power-station funnels dwarfed the pointed arches of the entrance building, sandwiching several thinner pipes as though the structure were some immense musical organ.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg," Charlie said with a grin, having seen her face.

He stepped up to the intercom resting on the wall beside the gate and pressed the cold metal button.

"Hey, it's Charlie. We're home," he spoke into the tiny circles of the speaker.

Ever punctual, the great gates whirred open and the young couple entered the white courtyard. Eager to be inside where it was warm, Charlie jogged up to the doors. Alice, however, was taking in all she could get. It wasn't as though this was definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but even she couldn't be certain how long she would be close to Charlie and in turn see the wonders of a place so many were not permitted to see.

Her eyes traced the undisturbed lawn of snow, across a pair of rusted delivery trucks – also blanketed in white – and back to the looming mechanical doors as they separated in the middle to let them through.

The young chocolatier smiled, half-expecting a welcome in the form of a puppet show like the one he had experienced ten years ago, but all was quiet. His technical mentor was probably far too busy these days to bother with a celebration for his every return.

Charlie helped Alice cart her luggage into the long entrance hallway, the iron doors sealing behind them.

"Just leave them here," he said, tossing his jacket onto the carpet.

Alice raised an eyebrow.

"On the floor?"

"Yes. Trust me," Charlie replied. He took off her coat and dropped it on top of his jacket. "Now watch."

They waited for a few moments. A metallic chittering noise started up and a dozen robots shaped like beetles, each one about a foot high, scuttled out from an opening in the wall. Tiny pincers squeaked out from their shells and clamped onto the discarded belongings then, with all the grace in which they'd arrived, they scuttled away coats and all.

"Where'd they go?" Alice wondered as the flap in the wall closed.

"To the cloakroom. We'll find all our stuff in our rooms later on, you'll see."

They journeyed on along the corridor. Even though Charlie had not omitted telling his girlfriend some of the miracles of Wonka's factory, Alice was still surprised as the ceiling dipped so low she had to bend over at the end of the passage. At first she had thought it to be a dead end, but she watched Charlie pull out a key from his shirt pocket. She followed his hand down and was astonished to see him fit it into the lock of a door that couldn't have been more than four inches tall. Before she could question, he pushed the wall open and escorted her into the Chocolate Room.

Though not as bright as it had been when Charlie had first seen it, this room was still a marvel. Trees and hills, rocks and flowers, all sparkling in various sizes and most importantly – all designed to be eaten. For the winter season the entire room was bathed in a soothing blue light and every blade of grass (each blade made from sugar candy) was frosted with icing.

Charlie took Alice's hand and walked with her over the green bridge that traversed a shimmering river of flowing warm chocolate. This wasn't so much a factory as a painting from a fairytale.

A crooked cottage curled up in the middle of the room, basking underneath two giant shakers that swung back and forth. They sprinkled the icing sugar, giving the illusion of the house being inside a huge snowglobe.

Charlie had opened the gate and strolled up to the door ready to knock, when a voice called from the riverbank.

"Over here, Charlie!"

The couple turned and made their way across the meadow, avoiding squashing some marshmallow toadstools. Standing at the edge of the chocolate river was the figure of global candy-making legend.

Mr Wonka awaited them smartly, equipped with dark regalia; a long velvet coat of glistening black, the top hat of the same tone with two crimson ribbons training above the brim. His pallid face was masked with a pair of large sunglasses that verged on ski goggles. Hands, gloved in purple plastic, cupped over the top of a walking cane he leaned on for style rather than necessity.

Charlie rushed forwards to give his friend a hearty hug. Alice noted that Mr Wonka received this with a slight wince, or was it the hint of habitual reluctance? He patted the young man's shoulder as they parted.

"Are you going out?" Charlie asked the older chocolatier, pointing out his warm attire.

"No," said William. "I just felt a little cold today, that's all."

Charlie was about to argue that the temperature in the Chocolate Room was already stifling but the cough from beside him and the way Mr Wonka was tilting his head told him there were more important things to talk about.

"Oh, Willy, I'd like you to meet Alice," he introduced and took her hand to bring her into the head chocolatier's presence.

Mr Wonka smiled with a perfect row of teeth. Eerily perfect.

"Well ding dong the merry-oh," he sang, without moving a thing save his mouth. "Glad to meet ya, little lady."

Alice peered uncomfortably into the glassy darkness of the man's shades, not even certain if he was looking back at her or not. She offered a hand for him to shake, but he either did not understand the gesture or simply did not want to do so.

"Er…hi," she managed.

"So," said Charlie, breaking up the tension of which he'd been unaware. "Are we going in the house for dinner? If you don't mind me saying, Willy, I'm starved."

"Oh!" Mr Wonka burst out as though snapping from a daze. "No worries Charlie. I got it all set out in my dining room. It's been itchin' for just such an occasion. Besides -." He broke into a whisper for effect. "Nanny Gigi's kipping in the house. Don't wanna go waking her now do we?"

Charlie agreed. Grandma Georgina or 'Nanny Gigi', as Mr Wonka had taken to calling her, was his sole surviving grandparent. Sadly the others had passed on through his teenage years, but it was to be expected from their age and they had been happy. She may not have been his favourite relative but she had always been there to give him helpful advice, even if it was as jumbled as _'don't forget to take the socks out of the toaster before the blackbird pickles them'_.

"What about Mum and Dad?" he asked suddenly. "Aren't they in there?"

"No, Charlie. I thought I told ya they went on vacation for the weekend?" William answered with a frown. "Anyhow, let's move along. The kitchen staff won't want us to be dallying around here all night."

With that, the mystifying chocolatier swept off further along the bank, the folds of his thick coat fluttering at his back.

Charlie took Alice's hand once more and walked with her a little way behind Mr Wonka.

"Isn't he great?" He beamed at her. "I told you he'd give us a proper welcome."

Alice forced a smile.

"You weren't wrong when you said he was pale," she whispered.

"Ah he's always been that way, though he doesn't look all that well I must admit. Probably been working himself too hard, I expect. He'll be fine," Charlie assured.

His sweetheart felt doubtful.

"I'm not certain he likes me all that much," she said softly.

"Of course he does," Charlie said, squeezing her hand gently. "He's just a little nervy when it comes to meeting new people. You'd know if he didn't like you, believe me." He gave a small chuckle.

Alice nodded, hiding the worried sensation that strummed her spine.

A few feet ahead of them Mr Wonka paused for half a step, and then continued in his stride.


	3. Chapter 3

The dining room was luxurious. It could even have been labelled a banquet hall through its sheer size; golden chandeliers and candlesticks with all the stoicism of the Victorian era; a gleaming oak floor and sweeping drapes of rich, dark green.

They seated themselves at one end of the long table, Mr Wonka naturally at the head in the taller, throne-like chair. Silver platters had been set ready for them, piled unnecessarily high with steaming vegetables or crammed with roast fowl – _chicken_, Charlie mouthed to his girlfriend with a grin. Their glasses were full to the brim with white wine, except for William who had a large plum mug.

"What's that you've got there, Willy?" his chocolate-making apprentice wondered.

Mr Wonka smiled thinly, apparently embarrassed. He still kept his shades on even for the meal.

"Hot chocolate," he said. "I don't usually have it but I recently developed a bit of a craving for it." He emitted a half-hearted giggle then, with a burst of realisation, he cried out, "What in tarnation am I thinking?"

The noise he made next startled Alice so much that she leapt two inches out of her seat. It was a ridiculous sound, an ululation made with the tongue that even primary school children would classify as immature.

As if from nowhere, a small man appeared beside Mr Wonka. If it hadn't been for the white chef's hat balanced proudly on his head, the man would barely have reached the height of the chocolatier's elbow. William leaned down and whispered something to the chef, then crossed his arms over his chest in salute. The tiny person repeated this gesture and scurried away.

"Was that an…what did you say they were? An Urmpalurmpa?" Alice asked.

"An Oompa Loompa, yes," Charlie answered. "Always happy to help so long as they get their wages in cocoa beans. All these years and they still can't get enough of them. Oh, Willy, didn't you say you brought in some more Oompa Loompas over the last few weeks?"

Mr Wonka had been staring at the door in wait for the little man's return.

"What? Oh, yeah. There're still a few stray tribes out there in Loompaland. They're welcome to stay in their jungle but I found these ones under siege by a gang of Hornswogglers. They sure couldn't wait to take refuge here instead, and furthermore, they're fittin' in like lettuce in a salad. Speakin' of, you guys get on an' eat before it gets cold." He pointed at the various plates of succulent foods.

Charlie and Alice dished up what they desired and soon the Oompa Loompa chef returned with what the head chocolatier had asked for – three novelty straws with looping tops.

Alice glanced sidelong at Charlie who didn't seem to think it was the slightest bit strange as Mr Wonka dropped the straws into each of their drinking vessels. She shrugged and sipped her wine through a pink pipeline.

"Aren't you having anything?" Charlie asked Mr Wonka with a mouthful of gravy-smothered chicken.

"Not hungry," was the simple reply. "Are you having fun at University?"

"Yeah, it's great," Charlie exclaimed. "The work load's a lot heavier this year but we got to know lots of people and stuff. I've even learnt how to-."

"Oh," Mr Wonka interrupted loudly. His tone was etched with disappointment.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin's wrong."

"Well there must be something wrong if you -."

Charlie's voice was drowned out by a very loud slurping sound coming from William's mug.

"Fine then," the younger chocolatier grumbled. He continued with his meal.

Alice wondered if she should break the tension but luckily, Mr Wonka broke his silence.

"I just don't see why you have to go to that place at all," he sighed. "Present female company excluded. You have a whole business back here to help me run. Isn't that all you'd ever need?"

"We've already discussed this. We can't guarantee the factory will always be as successful as it is, especially when you're – when I have to take over. Wouldn't you rather I play it safe with a degree so I can help it stay in profit and if worst came to worst be able to get a job should the place close down? I have to think of my family, Willy, present female company included."

"Present female company has a name," Alice interjected, coughing.

"Sorry honey."

William stifled a retching sound before replying, "But _I'm _your family too Charlie…and the factory…and the Oompa Loompas. You've still got so much to learn, there's paperwork making a mountain outta your office! It's hard work taking care of everything myself."

"You managed it before," Charlie said a little coldly.

"Yeah and I'm a darn sight older than you…" The head chocolatier trailed off. He didn't need to say any more.

Charlie knew that Mr Wonka must have been nearing fifty by now. The strange thing was that he didn't look much different from the day they had met. If anything, he almost looked _younger_. Oh Mr Wonka had ways of staying youthful all right, the least of which was his fabulous Hair Cream – fabulous in the way it kept the crop soft and full of colour, shame it couldn't give you a respectable hairstyle. But he doubted even Hair Cream could have been the cause of the not-a-week-over-thirty appearance. _Surely he hadn't broken out the Wonkavite tablets? _

"All right," Charlie said at last. "I see your point. It's only for this last year anyway so I'll be back again before you know it. As for family, how come you haven't found someone of your own to settle down with?"

Alice's eyes widened. Was Charlie for real?

Mr Wonka, however, had gone positively green. When he finally opened his eyes, an action no one could see through the sunglasses, he spoke his reply weakly.

"I've only got so much love to go around, Charlie. My time is tantamount to that."

Charlie sighed.

"You can be such a Scrooge sometimes, you know that?"

The rest of the banquet was consumed without words. When the couple had cleared enough from their plates as they could manage, Charlie asked bluntly which rooms had been prepared for them.

"You're in the Dauntless suite, Miss Alice has the Everglott."

"Right," said Charlie and walked briskly out of the room, almost having to pull his girlfriend along with him as she had stopped to nod her head in thanks for the supper.

As the door closed, Alice heard the voice from within utter: "_Mumbler_."

Charlie was still in a rage by the time they had reached the level of the factory with the bedrooms.

"I can't believe how he's acting," he growled. "I don't think the man will ever grow up."

Alice placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"He probably just misses you. Besides, I thought you said that was one of the things you most admired about him, that he'll always see things as a child."

"I know, but it doesn't mean he has to be like it _all the time_. He runs a business for god's sake, oh I don't know what I'm saying…I'm becoming just what he always feared…an adult. A big, stupid government-run adult."

Alice poked him in the ribs. He laughed, unable to prevent himself from doing so.

"There you see," she said, grinning. "We're all kids inside. Have to push the right button, that's all. Now, go get some sleep. We'll stay in our separate rooms for now if it'll keep him happy, okay?"

Charlie nodded wearily. He kissed Alice on the lips, lingered for a moment in a nostalgic lover's gaze and retired to his room.

Alice wandered along the corridor until she'd found a door embossed with fancy lettering: _Everglott_. She paused with her palm on the handle, her gaze caught by the shadows of the hallway. Her imaginations gone wild, she thought she saw a figure dart just out of sight. Tiredness overwhelming her, she dismissed it and entered through the door.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the wait. Broken monitor and lack of time, butI shall try to keep this and OneDepp going again. Enjoy, DFQ xxx

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The Everglott room was fit for a duchess. Candelabra-shaped wall lamps illuminated a strangely monochrome interior, every item of furniture; the queen-size bed; the dresser and stool; the wardrobe and drawers; was adorned with black and white skirting. Alice, though she still wore her white dress, felt almost too colourful to belong.

As Charlie had said, her possessions had already been brought here. Her cream coat hung on the back of the door, her suitcase waiting on the bedcovers. She sighed contentedly, tired from travelling, and seated herself at the dressing table. Her fingers unclipped the catch of her handbag and rummaged about inside. Having grasped the contours of her mobile phone, she flipped it open, scanning its screen for messages.

None, and there was hardly any reception in here.

Wondering vaguely whether Charlie was doing the same in his room or if he was already sound asleep, Alice tucked the device away once more. She began to set out various accessories on the tabletop. She didn't own a particularly large range of make-up items but it made her feel more comfortable to lay them out as though she were at home. As she reached for the handle of the dresser drawer, a voice startled her.

"I always thought mirrors to be a fascinating decoration for a room."

Alice stared at Mr Wonka's reflection. He was dressed differently since dinner; a deep plum shirt with dark Chinese embroidery on the collar, black trousers, black cloak closed to below his chest. The top hat and opaque sunglasses remained.

"Pictures that change every day," he continued distantly. "A whole other world of people mimicking our every move but never really knowing who we are on this side of the glass." He smiled to himself. "Yeah, that's pretty neat."

The young woman turned on the stool to face him.

"I didn't hear you knock," she said hesitantly, wondering if she should have added 'sir'.

"You expect me to knock at the doors of my own house?"

It was impossible to discern his tone. It didn't sound angry. Even so –

"No, I -."

"Of course you don't. No need to get in a twist about it. Now, I'll bet you're wonderin' why I'm here, aren't ya?"

Alice nodded. It seemed the right thing to do. William moved away from the bedpost he'd been leaning against and paced across the room.

"I wanted, well, that is I wanted you to know that you're very welcome here. I was worried I was a bit inhospitable what with that little spat I was having with Charlie. It didn't feel so hot actin' like that around company, ya know?"

"It's okay," Alice replied, still unsettled.

"Right," said Mr Wonka. "I just hope you know that our problems are nothin' to do with your r- your rel-." He paused. He tried again. "Your involvement with Charlie. I missed him is all, 'kay?"

"So I see."

William coughed and stopped pacing. With his cloak fluttering at his sides he appeared as some eerie street magician. He looked upon her and tilted his head pensively.

"You're a girl," he stated.

"Yes?"

"Girls like chocolate, don't they?"

Another statement, but she answered all the same.

"Most of them do, yes."

"Do you like it?" he asked.

Alice's eyes narrowed. Was this some test of approval?

"Quite a lot," she said truthfully.

"Wonderful," Mr Wonka exclaimed. "Then I'm sure you'll be very happy with your welcome gift. It's in the drawer on the left."

Alice opened the drawer she had reached for earlier and spied a small blue box. She took it out.

"You didn't have to really -," she started.

"Open it."

Alice did so. Five round pebbles of chocolate nestled in a cup of tissue paper.

"I know they don't look all that much, but just try one," Mr Wonka insisted. "Go ahead."

Not wanting to displease the man providing her with food and lodgings, Alice picked up a chocolate daintily in her fingers and slipped it into her mouth. She noticed the chocolatier was watching her closely.

"Bite it," he instructed.

Alice bit. Something happened that made her feel as though all the breath inside her was sucked into her throat. It was like someone was painting sparklers in front of her eyes. It was incredible.

"Aren't they something?" Mr Wonka chuckled as she swallowed it down.

"What was that?" she gasped, her heart racing.

"Liquor. Mostly. I'm goin' to leave you be now, Miss Alice. You'll want another of those if I'm right, so go on and enjoy. I'll see you both bright and early tomorrow so's I can show you around. Sleep tight."

Alice watched, somewhat numbly, as Mr Wonka swept gracefully from the room. When the doors had clicked shut, she staggered over to the bed, still clutching the box of chocolates. She shoved her suitcase onto the floor and flopped out across the sheets. After allowing herself to devour at least two more of the sweets, she sank happily into sleep.

From beyond the glass of the dressing table the chocolatier's reflection lingered, concealed eyes observing the sleeping woman for just a few moments more, then faded.


End file.
